In the Shadow of Darkness
by DevinBourdain
Summary: Crane struggles to determine if his missing crewman is alive and where while dealing with the aftermath of the destruction of base 21 and the attacks on the crew. Series part 3 of 5. Warnings: see profile for series content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.

Reviews are always welcome.

Part 3/5 in series

* * *

**In the Shadow of Darkness**

The possibility that Chip Morton was alive had recharged Nelson and Crane; the message that Crane had received had offered hope where little had existed before. Nelson had ordered Crane to keep the news between them; while it would have lifted crew morale, the odds that Chip was still alive were minuscule. The Admiral had also ordered Lee not to tell Chip's family what they had learned; to offer the Mortons unsubstantiated hope seemed cruel. Nelson still had his doubts about the message. This new foe had done their homework; knew their routines and connections. There was a very good chance that he knew about the joke shared between Lee and Chip. Their enemies past actions proved he would stoop to any level including providing false hope. The Mortons had already lost their son and brother; who were they to put the family through that again if it turned out the exec wasn't alive.

For the last two weeks Nelson and Crane had kept the secret. Two weeks had passed and no other contact from Chip. Had he been alive at all? Did he send the message and even if he did that only meant he was alive a month ago. Anything could have happened since then.

Lee waited patiently at his computer waiting for his contact at ONI to start their video conference. Finally the screen flickered to life and the sandy haired gentleman sat down in front of the screen.

"Hello Lee," came the cheerful salutation.

"Jason. What have you found out?" demanded the Captain.

The Commander raised his hands in mock surrender. The smile vanished from his round face and he took a moment to formulate his thoughts. Crane had called his fellow agent and friend Jason Nix almost every day looking for a lead or a break through regarding those behind the destruction of Base 21, the attempted murder of everyone at the conference Nelson was attending and the murder of Chip Morton and the other people on the underwater base. Every time Lee called, Jason had the demoralizing task of having to tell his friend they had nothing.

It killed Commander Nix to watch the hopeful look on his friends face slip behind a mask of indifference that covered up the sorrow and heartache that came from hearing they were no closer to justice. Today would be no different.

"I'm sorry Lee. I promise you, when we know something, you'll know something."

The skipper opened up his mouth to protest but Jason continued on. "This isn't an inter agency pissing match Lee; no one is hiding anything from anyone. As much as anyone in intelligence hate's to admit it, we just don't have anything. No one has come forward to claim any credit for the destruction of the base or the deaths. We can't find any trace of the technology on the black market or with any of our known enemy agents. Whoever did it dropped off the face of the earth after the bombing, and didn't appear again until they went after your friends. For the last two weeks they've dropped off the map again. Whoever they are, they're good Lee."

"Somebody did it and they're not through yet. I'm not going to sit here and wait for them to pick off everyone I know one by one. You need to look harder!" shouted Lee.

"We looked into Oliver Shaw; his bank accounts, known associates, travel records, it all comes back as normal. There's nothing there to suggest he's the one that was working on the inside. Nathaniel Highner's records have disappeared; there's no trace of him at all. I would say he's your suspect but we have nothing to dig deeper with."

"Shaw's the man on the inside I know it. I'll contact you later Jason."

"Take care . . ." Jason was interrupted when the screen went black and Lee signed off.

* * *

Sam Malcolm rubbed his sore eyes. He had been staring at the computer screen for hours. The scientist was certain there had to be some clue as to who had been involved in the destruction of Base 21; he just had to find it.

All the data was starting to blend together into one unformed blob on the screen. Haphazardly Malcolm reached over for his coffee cup without looking away from the monitor. His hand grazed the side of the cup which was placed precariously close to the edge of the table. The cup wobbled and yield to the force of gravity, creating a brown puddle on the linoleum floor. In Sam's haste to save the cup from certain disaster he slammed his elbow into the keyboard.

After cleaning up the mess Malcolm sat back down in front of his computer; he let out a deep sigh when he realized he had lost his place in the on screen document. Resigning himself to having to start his analysis over again, Malcolm moved his mouse over to the close document button. Suddenly his eyes lit up and moments later he jumped up and ran out of the lab.

The elevator ride lasted an eternity but finally a ding sounded signifying Malcolm's arrival to the sixth floor; he burst through the doors and ran down the hall to the boardroom.

The Admiral was just placing the last information packet on the table while Michelle O'Brien was setting up the coffee cups for the meeting when Malcolm flew through the boardroom doors. The young scientist doubled over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Nelson looked over at the figure that had caused the dramatic entrance and cleared his throat.

"Sir, I think I found something," wheezed Malcolm.

After a few seconds of silence the Admiral demanded, "go on."

"Well I spilt my coffee and when I was cleaning it up . . ."

Nelson shook his head. "Skip to the part where you found something."

"Oh, well, I noticed an anomaly with one of the sensor readings . . ."

The false hope and grasping at straws regarding this case was wearing the older man thin. All the breakthroughs so far had led to disappointment; the likelihood that this was different was minimal.

"Yes Sam, we know sensor thirteen was tampered with."

"Not tampered with . . . replaced!"

"Replaced?" asked Nelson not sure what the scientist was getting at.

"It's not the original sensor. Whoever sabotaged the base replaced the sensor. We tested all of our sensors in the same controlled body of water before they were deployed; that means that all the sensors should have the same readings logged into their data report. But sensor thirteen has a completely different set of readings for its initial test."

Nelson looked over his shoulder at Michelle who was standing next to the table. The young science department administrator didn't have clearance for any military or top secret operations.

"If you could excuse us Mrs. O'Brien; we need the room."

"Of course Admiral. Excuse me Dr. Malcolm," Michelle answered as she left the room.

"Now what do you mean the initial reading were different?"

"All the sensor readings are logged until a programmer manually dumps the files. We haven't done that to any of our sensors and the program stores a log of every memory purge. There was no purge on sensor thirteen and the data that would have been collected from the pre-deployment test is not present in the readings. More importantly the initial readings of sensor thirteen indicate it was in freshwater not saltwater," elaborated Malcolm.

Following the scientist's train of thought, Nelson continued, "meaning that the sensor was tested in a lake and not with the rest of the sensors."

"Exactly; and it gets even better. The water it was tested in has traces of a very rare compound which means the sensor had to be tested here," said Malcolm as he pointed to the map printout he had.

"Yes, I remember they were doing some testing at that lake years ago. Some sort of compound that helps clean up chemical leaks, but it didn't work."

After dismissing Malcolm, the Admiral went to his office to contact ONI. Getting permission to track down a hunch no matter how well supported was going to take some negotiating to allow Nelson and his people to enter the People's Republic.

After hours of arguing Nelson managed to get the intelligence agency to see things his way and _Seaview_ was given the green light on the covert mission.

The Admiral took a moment to reflect on past events. The loss of Chip Morton had weighed heavily on him. He was starting to feel old under the tremendous weight of keeping everything together. The ember of hope was hard to keep alive and Nelson was sure it would burn out with his heart if it turned out to be a cruel ruse that Chip was still alive.

Nelson lit a cigarette and took a long drag, before letting it out slowly. He stared at the white cylinder in his hand and realized he had been smoking a lot lately; more so than usual. The bottle of scotch in his bottom desk drawer was at a lower level than he wanted to admit as well. Nelson wanted nothing more than to believe that Morton was alive and if it were true he would burst with joy; but years of experience were screaming that it was a trick, yet another tactic to wear them down and break them. Not wanting to bear the loss of Chip for a second time Nelson resigned himself to the fact that Morton was dead and nothing would change that.

He was also concerned for Lee. It was the little things that were suffering; being late for meetings, or forgetting them all together, pages missing from reports, missed signatures on documents. Nelson wasn't the only one to notice either; Jamieson and Sharkey had mentioned it in passing. Lacking focus was how they explained it, but it wasn't a lack of focus, Crane was very focused – in fact, obsessively focussed on all things pertaining to Chip. The Admiral couldn't blame him, he would love to put all his time and effort into finding Morton but he had responsibilities to other things that just couldn't be ignored so he could go off on a possible wild goose chase.

Nelson had tried to talk to the young Captain and explain his concern about Lee's distracted behaviour; unfortunately his concerns fell on deaf ears. Davenport was definitely going to have his work cut out for him. Hopefully the newest officer would be able to keep Crane from making a huge mistake.

The Admiral needed to keep it together a little longer. When the mission was done and the enemy brought to justice, then he could shut down for a while. Right now he had to keep it together; he had to look out for Lee, the last of his boys.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, what do you think?" asked Kowalski as he signalled the crane operator to bring the next load over to _Seaview's_ loading hatch.

"Think about what?" questioned Pat.

"The new XO," Ski clarified.

"Put me down for twelve days," said Malone.

"What about you Pat? Are you in?" inquired Ski as he shifted his attention to his other friend.

"We haven't even met the man yet," Pat replied as he helped guide the cable holding the crate down the hatch.

Before either Ski or Malone could put their two cents in, Sharkey approached the group.

"A little less chit chat boys and a little more work there maybe," suggested the Chief, "how's Riley doing anyhow?"

"He's resting at home now. Doesn't know why he can't go surfing every day," answered Patterson.

"Figures; the kid gets stabbed, is off on sick leave and wants to spend his time surfing. He must be feeling better," commented the Chief, "and just what are you three going on about anyways?"

Malone spoke up first, "we're just trying to determine how long this new XO is going to last."

"Say Chief, what have you heard about him?" asked Patterson.

"The new guy? Well I was told he's highly qualified and will make an excellent addition to the crew."

"Ya, but what have you _heard_?" clarified Kowalski.

Sharkey leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice, "I heard that he's one of _those_ Davenports."

Malone, Pat and Ski all had similar puzzled looks on their faces.

"The Davenports; you know, that rich family with a long line of service in the navy. Usually they all go on to hold office or some other important role in society."

Malone huffed, "great, so we have some spoiled rich kid for an officer. I want to change my bet to eight days."

Sharkey took on an authoritative demeanour and a serious voice, "you mean to tell me you boys are betting on how long our new executive officer is going to last?"

The three crewmen looked down at their shoes and nodded their heads slightly. Sharkey looked around to see who else was within hearing range.

"Put me down for sixteen days."

"Chief?" asked Kowalski.

"You heard me. Now get back to work you knuckleheads!"

The three crewmen just looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Not wanting to press their luck they went back to the chore of loading the sub for their next mission.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Lyndon Davenport passed through his second security check before driving to the main building at NIMR. It was his first day at the Institute and they were preparing for what would be his first mission aboard the legendary submarine. The preliminary mission brief was scheduled for ten o'clock which gave him a few hours to get settled into his new office.

The main lobby was like a ghost town. The only other person there was the cheery secretary that directed Davenport to main elevator and up to the sixth floor. The door to the elevator opened and Lyndon proceeded out carrying his box of office items.

Lyndon proceeded down the hall to Nelson's office. He entered the large outer office and cleared his throat to gain the attention of the brunette that was busy typing at her desk.

Ryan looked up at the newest NIMR employee, "you must be Commander Davenport."

"Lyndon," added the Lt. Cmdr. as he shifted the box to one arm and extended his other hand to greet the secretary.

"Ryan; Admiral Nelson's personal assistant."

Ryan hit the intercom button and waited for Nelson's reply. The intercom chirped to life and the Admiral's booming voice came through the speaker.

"Yes Ryan?"

"Commander Davenport has arrived sir."

"Take him to the exec's office and I will be there shortly."

Ryan got up and escorted the newest crewman to his new office down the hall. The office was devoid of all personal items as Lee had removed Chip's things weeks ago. Ryan opened the door, and Lyndon walked in and put his box on the barren desk.

Ryan spoke when Lyndon turned to face her, "if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. The break room is three doors down on your right and the washrooms are at the end of the hall to your left."

The young Lieutenant Commander nodded his understanding and went to work unpacking his belongings. The personal assistant shut the door behind her and went back to her desk located in the outer office of Nelson's office.

Lyndon opened the various drawers and found all the office essentials stacked in neat piles; even the paper clips were stacked according to size. The newest member of NIMR surveyed his surroundings and tried to get a feel for the man he was replacing. Organized neat freak came to mind. After accepting the position he had done some digging around to get a feel for the people Davenport was going to be working for; he knew he had some big shoes to fill.

The new exec finished storing his belongings, nowhere near in the same fashion that the previous occupant of the office had kept his things, and spun around in his chair. He no sooner completed the 360 degree turn than Admiral Nelson had entered the office.

"Managed to get yourself sorted here I see," commentated Nelson, trying his best to keep the smirk off his face at his newest acquisition's antics.

Trying to preserve an air of professionalism the young man answered, "Yes sir."

"Good. There will be a mission briefing at ten sharp in my office. After the meeting I'll have Chief Sharkey give you the grand tour of _Seaview._"

The Admiral left the exec's office and Lyndon glanced at the clock. He still had forty-five minutes until the meeting and decided to wander down to the cafeteria to grab a coffee.

The cafeteria was dead and Davenport had his pick of any table he wanted. He grabbed one near the door and dropped himself onto the hard plastic seat. On the table was the Institute newsletter detailing all the events and the less classified research that was being conducted. Lyndon flipped through it and casually skimmed over the article about crewman Somners welcoming a baby girl into the family, Trina from public relations celebrating her fortieth birthday and the annual Institute charity basketball game that weekend.

Lyndon's attention was diverted when a young lady rushed into the cafeteria carrying an arm load of files. In her haste one of the files slipped from her grasp and fell on the floor by Davenport's table. The young woman went up to the counter unaware that she had lost a piece of her precious cargo. The exec leaned over, and scooped up the file and then reached over to grab the one piece of paper that had floated away from the pile. He glanced at the paper finding it rather odd for a document like that to be moving around the Institute in such a casual manor but decided to shrug it off as he was not up to speed on Nelson's particular way of doing things yet.

Lyndon tucked the paper back in the file and walked over to its owner.

"I believe you dropped this," said Davenport as he handed the file back to the young lady.

She turned pale at the realization of her error and gladly accepted the file back.

"How careless of me; thank-you very much. I don't believe I know your name."

"Lyndon Davenport, I'm the new Executive Officer," he explained as he offered his hand.

"Michelle O'Brien, administrator of the science building. It's very nice to meet you."

"O'Brien, as in a relation to Tyler O'Brien?" asked Lyndon as the name rang a bell from the crew manifest he had been studying.

Michelle's eyes lit up and she shifted her stack of files so she could show off her wedding ring, "yes, that would be my husband. Now if you'll excuse I have to be somewhere," explained Michelle as she hurried down the hall.

Lyndon glanced at his watch and decided it was time to make his way to Nelson's office for the mission brief.

* * *

"This is a pretty important mission to try and break in a rookie isn't it?" shot Crane as he paced back and forth in front of the Admiral's desk.

"He's not a rookie, he has a lot of experience; and we're not rushing into anything without a complete crew compliment, so you better start getting use to the idea Lee," replied Nelson.

There was a lot riding on the next mission. Nelson desperately wanted to believe that Chip Morton was still alive somewhere, but he couldn't bring himself to get his hopes up. Crane believed enough for the both of them anyways. To find out it was all a ruse would be worse than losing the former exec in the first place. The older man didn't believe he had it in him to feel such a loss again; it would be hard enough to get Crane through it, if it turned out to be false.

The only reason the seasoned Admiral had kept it together so well this long was the Captain and the crew needed someone to be strong, to see them through this terrible turn of events. All that pressure was starting to weigh down on Nelson. To make matters worse the skipper was becoming more reckless and unfocused as the days went on. Sooner or later it would catch up to the Captain and Nelson was worried that without Chip, he would be unable to watch out for the young man all the time.

"You're wearing a hole in my floor Lee," commented the Admiral in a light conversational tone.

"He's late!" snapped Lee who had yet to sit down.

Raising his voice slightly Nelson replied, "he's not late; the meeting isn't scheduled to begin for fifteen more minutes. Now _sit_ down Captain."

Lee got a far as standing directly behind his chair

"We don't need someone new for this mission; the crew is perfectly capable of completing this mission without this kind of complication," continued Crane.

"Either Davenport is on _Seaview_ when we leave or I'll cancel the mission entirely Lee."

Crane's face fell and anger flashed in his eyes. They were going to recue Morton, the best executive officer, the only exec _Seaview_ ever had and now his mentor was going to scrub the mission if some temporary replacement couldn't come along. Lee's fingers dug into the back of the chair and just before he unleashed his tirade on the Admiral, Nelson raised his hand to silence the young Captain.

"You're not thinking clearly Lee. You're blinded by the possibility that Chip maybe alive that you're not seeing the possible dangers."

"Just because I'm the only one that cares if Chip is alive doesn't mean . . .!" ranted Lee before Nelson cut him off.

"You're _not _the only one that cares about Chip!" shouted Nelson as he slammed his hands on the desk, "but someone has to be objective about this and right now it's certainly not you. I want nothing more than to find Morton alive and well but the reality is, and I know you don't want to hear it, the reality is he's dead and this is a trap. Getting yourself killed won't bring him back Lee."

The last words hung in the air as both men starred at each other. Any further arguments or apologies were put on hold with a knock on the door.

Upon hearing the Admiral beckon his entrance Lyndon entered the office with ten minutes to spare until the start of the meeting. The tension in the room was not lost on the newest crew member as he took the last available seat by Nelson's desk.

The highlights of the upcoming mission included taking the sub to the edge of international waters then using the Flying Sub to covertly enter the waters of the People's Republic. From there Crane, Davenport and two other crewmen would make their way to the coordinates Malcolm estimated the fake sensor was tested at, while the Admiral managed _Seaview_. If successful they would discover the secret lab that had been used to create the sensor and was more than likely the site in which this new enemy was trying to recreate the weapon system not to mention where Morton was being held.

Through the whole meeting Crane sat there and tapped his pencil as Nelson went over the specifics. Lee knew the Admiral's earlier statement had been correct but he couldn't keep his mind focused on the task at hand; the skipper found it difficult to listen to seismic activity in the area when all he wanted to think about was rescuing his friend.

When the meeting was complete Crane got out of his seat and promptly left the office. A feeling of claustrophobia was suffocating him and he just needed to get away from everyone for a few moments.

The truth was Lee wouldn't let himself believe the message was a trap. If it was a trap then Chip truly was dead and he had indeed failed his best friend; but if Chip was alive then there was a chance to be redeemed for the decision he made.

Crane had talked with Jamie but the doctor was too understanding and supportive. Drinking had only offered temporary absolution that quickly vanished in the morning and he didn't want to burden his mother with his problems. Crane wanted to talk to the Admiral but every time he thought about what he would say it always sounded like he regretted the decision he made which meant that he regretted saving Nelson. Nothing was further from the truth, but Lee felt he would only hurt his friend's feelings if he tried to explain it to him.

Lee watched Davenport make his way out to the dock from his office window. He knew he was being unfair to the man; it wasn't his fault that Chip had died and he had been asked to fill the position. Crane couldn't help but feel that Lyndon was the enemy and befriending him, making his job easier was a betrayal of Chip's memory.


	3. Chapter 3

_Seaview_ had been on her way for the last two days and was steadily gliding closer to her destination. Everything was running smoothly and efficiently but the climate amongst the crew was cold. It lacked the friendly banter and warmth that radiated from the Captain and XO.

The Lt. Cmdr was standing next to the plotting table making the final adjustments to the next stretch of their course when the patter of footsteps moving down the spiral staircase alerted him the Crane's presence.

Lee surveyed the control room and proceeded over to Davenport.

"I'll take over the watch now, you can go," order Crane.

Lyndon causally glanced at his watch, "I still have fifteen minutes," he paused for a moment then added an insubordinate, "sir."

The pair stared each other down for a moment before Davenport rolled his eyes and dropped the pencil down onto the plotting table. The crew quickly turned back to their instruments when Crane turned to look around the control room. O'Brien swiftly came forward from retrieving a message from Sparks. The Lieutenant handed the message to the Captain who glanced at it then ordered Sharkey to take it up to the Admiral.

"Mr. O'Brien, bring us around to course zero-one-six," order Lee as he moved closer to the map.

Lyndon had just reached the top stair when the order was issued and promptly turned and ran back down the stairs.

"Belay that order," shouted Davenport as he reached the control room floor.

The crew froze in place at the new order and Crane's head shot up.

"Carry on Mr. O'Brien," shouted Lee.

"Disregard that order Lieutenant," commanded the exec, who then turned towards the skipper and growled out, "can I have a word with you _Captain."_

Lee didn't know why his first reaction was always anger when it came to the newest addition to his crew; the fact that the man was trying to countermand his order grated on his last nerve. Crane knew if it was anyone else he would take the moment to hear them out, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Mr. Davenport on this boat I give the orders and I will not have you countermand my authority. Now you are dismissed; Mr. O'Brien, carry on."

"But Captain. . ." the protest died on the exec's lips as the sound of proximity alarms echoed through the sub.

Davenport began issuing orders for the sub to alter course away from the nearby rock formation just as Nelson came rushing into the control room.

"What the devil is going on here," demanded Nelson looking at his two most senior officers.

Crane looked at Davenport and then back at Nelson. He was about to speak when Lyndon beat him to the punch.

"My fault sir. I failed to remind the Captain about the new rock formations in this area due to the recent seismic activity as discussed in out meeting sir," barked out the young man.

Nelson glanced towards Crane who was looking rather pale at that moment.

"Is this true Captain?"

Again before Crane could utter a syllable Davenport beat him to it.

"Yes sir. The Captain gave an order based on faulty information; if I had informed him of the changed this incident would never have occurred."

"Very well. Mr. Davenport, to my cabin on the double. Captain I want to see you there in thirty minutes," ordered the Admiral who turned and left with the exec in tow.

Lee rubbed his hands over his face. How could he forget an important piece of information from the mission brief like that? More importantly why would Davenport cover for him when he had gone out of his way to be difficult for the new exec? Lee wasn't about to stand there and let him face the Admiral's wrath for something that wasn't his fault. Crane had made another miscalculation; when had that start to become a common occurrence?

"Mr. O'Brien take the conn," commanded Crane as he headed towards Nelson's cabin.

"What was all that about?" asked Sharkey who had also came down when the Admiral had.

O'Brien shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea Chief."

* * *

"Care to explain what happened?" asked Nelson as he looked over the damage list.

The incident had been minor. Another close call for _Seaview_; the concern was that it occurred at the command crew's hand. The situation could have been a lot worse but the Admiral felt deep down that it had been coming for a while. Crane was all about getting the job done, but lately he had been obsessed with finding Chip. Nelson couldn't blame or fault Lee for his devotion to his friend, but the Captain had a habit of becoming so singularly focused on his task that everything else seemed to cease to exist; including his attention to his health and personal danger.

Lighting his cigarette, Nelson knew what had transpired in the control room before he even asked the Lieutenant Commander. It wasn't hard to imagine. So far the older man was impressed with the exec's summation; he could have just as easily told his CO what had really transpired instead of taking the blame.

"I told you sir, I failed to inform . . ." started Davenport.

The Admiral raised a hand and stopped the younger man from continuing his speech.

"Cut the crap Commander," Nelson paused as Crane entered the room and stood by his exec, "I want to know the exact scenario of how this happened and I don't want the noble 'fall on my sword' approach."

"Captain Crane decided we should attempt to test the structural integrity of the outer haul; apparently he didn't like the paint job, sir," shot the young man.

"So Captain Crane ordered a course correction without taking in to consideration the information discussed at out earlier meeting."

Lee felt compelled to answer the rhetorical question, "yes, Admiral."

"And you took responsibility because . . . ?" led Nelson as he shifted his gaze towards Lyndon.

Answering the Institute founder's question, Davenport turned his gaze towards Lee. "It's very clear that the Captain has zero faith in me. It's my job to look after this crew. I feel it's important for the crew to have faith in at least _one_ of their commanding officers, so I will maintain that trust even if it means projecting an illusion."

"Alright Davenport, you are dismissed. You and Crane can work out whatever _this is _when we get back to Santa Barbara and you're both painting the hull. Now let's get focused on the mission at hand."

Lyndon turned and left the room before Crane could say anything. As soon as the door was shut the Admiral continued his speech.

"A mission that I will not hesitate to bench you from Lee if I feel you are not able to focus and be objective."

"I can handle the mission sir," grumbled the disgruntled Captain.

"Today's demonstration would prove otherwise; if it happens again I will relieve you of command. You're not going to do anyone any good if you get us or yourself killed on this quest. Either get it together or fall apart but _this_, whatever this is, is not working."

He knew the Admiral was angry and had every right to be but Lee just couldn't bring himself to care. All of this was just a distraction from his objective: bring Chip home. There were no other options or possibilities in his world. Nothing was right anyways; the whole routine and feel of the sub was off.

Crane nodded at the appropriate places in his friend's speech but he wasn't really listening; he kept running over the situation from when they first accepted the mission with Base 21 to the email from Chip. No one else that mattered to him was going to get hurt because of him; Lee was going to finish this alone.

Nelson had insisted that the Captain take his new XO and two additional crewmen. He planned on taking Sharkey and Patterson; they both obeyed his orders to the letter. If he ordered them to stay with FS1 that would just leave him and Davenport to find the location. Ditching the exec shouldn't be a problem and then Lee would be free to do what he needed to do without worrying about anyone getting hurt in the crossfire.

Crane didn't know when he changed or what changed in him but he knew he wasn't the same person he was before Chip died; no, Chip wasn't dead, somehow he had survived and was depending on Lee to rescue him. The Skipper decided he could pretend to be his old self for a few more days; keep it together and pretend everything is the way it used to be.

* * *

Sharkey and Pat were busy getting FS1 ready and Davenport was gathering some last minute items. Nelson decided now was a good time to have a heart to heart with his friend. The two stood in the observation nose staring out at the ocean.

"Lee I need to know you're not going to do anything stupid out there. I need the calm, capable, collected Crane that commanded this sub before all this started. I need the ONI agent that's good under pressure and can see danger before it arrives. I need to know I'm not going to lose another friend."

"Don't worry Admiral I have everything under control now. I know exactly how to play this."

* * *

The yellow sub approached the shoreline. The Captain decided not to fly directly to the coordinates as not to alert anyone of their presence; instead he would leave FS1 submerged just off of the shore and walk through the jungle to their destination.

The submersible surfaced and Crane climbed into the raft. Davenport handed him the backpacks and followed him on to the raft.

"I want you and Patterson to wait here."

"But Captain don't you think it would be better if we came along? I mean the Admiral did say we were to accompany you," questioned Sharkey.

"If something goes wrong I'll need you here to contact _Seaview_. If we don't contact you in twenty-four hours I want you to head back to the sub."

"If you think that's best sir," answered Patterson.

Davenport just rolled his eyes at Crane's plan and 'justification'. The action did not go unnoticed by Lee.

"Do you have a problem Mr. Davenport?"

"Now why would I have a problem with a plan like that? I would never question the infinite wisdom of our captain."

The two locked eyes; neither one wanting to concede to the other. Crane had a feeling his new exec was on to his plan to ditch the crew to take on this adversary and Lyndon knew the Captain was planning on ditching everyone to go off on his own personal vendetta. Lee finally threw an oar at Davenport and ordered him to row. He would deal with the insubordination later; right now there were more pressing matters.


	4. Chapter 4

They had spent hours walking without saying a word to one another; finally Lee gave the order to stop and set up camp for the night. It would take another day walking in this terrain to get to their destination. He lowered his weary body to the ground rethinking his decision to not take the Flying Sub closer, but he didn't want to alert anyone to his presence too early and have Chip pay the price; success of the mission was paramount.

Davenport radioed FS1 and scheduled the next check in for tomorrow night. He had successfully managed to take the first watch and settled down next to a tree while the Captain got his four hours of sleep.

Like clockwork Lee awoke when his watch was due to start. He waited until he felt Davenport was asleep then quietly took off into the night. No one was going to slow him down and no one else was going to get hurt because of him. He figured the XO disliked him enough that he would do his duty and return to FS1 to report to the Admiral directly that he had 'lost' the Captain and by the time Nelson sent backup it would all be over; one way or another.

Crane was wrong; the second he heard Lee take off on his own, Lyndon gathered his gear and went after the wayward Captain. He managed to catch up with Crane in a matter of minutes. The sun was just starting to peek over the distant hills and the sky was replacing its dark navy color with a light pink glow. Davenport could make out the stalking form of his fellow crewman up ahead and proceeded forward. Not wanting to end up on the wrong end of Crane's gun the new exec decided to let his presence be known.

"So you were just going to leave me there?"

Lee flinched as the silence was broken. _Damn how did he manage to sneak up like that?_ "It's for the best if you stay behind. I can do this faster and better on my own!"

Lyndon immediately went on the offensive at Crane's acidic tone. "Blow it out your ass Crane; leaving me in the jungle is not what's best."

This wasn't the time and hardly the place for an argument to break out but something snapped in Lee and he could see that the XO wasn't going to go quietly. All his years of training and experience went out the window; the stress and pressure over the last few weeks needed to be released, and apparently this was the moment it was going to happen.

"Alright, I don't want to have to babysit _you_! I have more important things to do."

"The only person who's doing any babysitting around here is me."

"Situations like this are out of your league little boy; you should leave it to the professionals."

"Ya and who are they? After what I've seen of you so far, everything I've heard about you has to be a complete fabrication. And what would you know about what I'm capable of? You've spent the last week being a complete ass."

"I'm trying to do you a favor here. Now go back and wait for me at the Flying Sub."

"Ya, cause I really want to show up and face the men without their gallant Captain. I've got news for you; you're not the only person who's lost somebody."

Crane's reply was silenced by the clicking of weapons. Suddenly the pair were surrounded by several armed men; an assortment of rifles and small arms were pointed at both their heads. One man appeared to be in charge was yelling at the pair in a language that Crane could only assume was Chinese.

Taking in the situation, Lyndon leaned slightly towards Lee and whispered, "Don't do me any more favors when they turn out like this." He raised his hands in surrender and replied to the group in their native tongue. Turning to Crane he said, "They told us to surrender, so raise your hands."

"And what did you tell them?"

"Not to shoot."

"You speak Chinese?"

"They're speaking Vietnamese. And for the record, no one speaks Chinese; it's Mandarin or Cantonese."

Lee rolled his eyes, "Now would be the time to set the record straight on that."

Lee followed Davenport's action and one of the armed men began frisking the pair for any weapons or useful items.

From further back a voice sounded in English but with an accent. "Well if it isn't my favorite American."

"I change my mind, you can go ahead and shoot," muttered Lyndon.

A smaller man dressed in a dark green jacket and black pants walked towards Lyndon with a huge smile on his face. The other armed men moved behind their prisoners so their leader could get a good look at both men; paying very little attention to Crane the man seemed to focus on Davenport with familiarity.

"Look at you my friend! All grown up and an officer no less; I think your daddy must be _real_ proud of you."

"Of all the things my father would be proud of, his half breed children are not among them. What are you doing here Lao Máfan?"

Máfan turned to Crane with a big smile and pointed towards Lyndon with his thumb. "This is the genuine article here. A real American Indian." Turning back to Davenport he continued, "I not forgotten your brother promised to show me traditional native ways. We were going to build a teepee and a totem pole then go hunt the buffalo."

The exec did very little to hide his irritation for the man before him. "I don't even know where to start with the inaccuracies in that stereotype; any arrangements you have with my brother are between the two of you."

"Your brother; there's a subject near and dear. Your brother ripped me off $10 000; maybe I take restitution out on you and your friend?"

This turn of events was definitely not anything Lee would have predicted. Here he was trying to rescue his friend and now he was being held by some guy in enemy territory, who seemed to be very familiar with his first officer. Lately, when things went bad, they really seemed to go the whole way.

"Hey, even idiots get lucky sometimes Lao; besides ten K is what you probably make in an hour, so don't tell me your beef has to do with money."

"I no lose it in card game; he steel my drugs. Someone going to pay and since I find you, I choose you. Now move."

The armed lackeys shoved the prisoners forward and the group proceeded to march through the jungle. Máfan led the way and Crane and Davenport were placed in the middle of the single-file line.

They marched over a rough but worn path for two hours before reaching the groups camp. It wasn't much, mostly a bunch of huts with livestock running around; it certainly wasn't a base of operations for the area. Judging by the basic supplies and equipment these couldn't be the men who were testing the sensor. Lee was so close to the coordinates but this current situation placed him so far away from his goal.

He was placed in a wooden cage along with Lyndon and the men seemed to disperse through the camp. The two were left alone in their captivity.

"Care to explain what's going on?" demanded the Captain.

Lyndon shrugged as he lowered himself to the ground. "I had an interesting childhood."

"mmm-hm, and that guy?"

"Lao? He's a short guy with a Napoleon complex. He's a drug and arms smuggler; mostly works as the middle man between the People's Republic and the rest of the world. Has a penchant for shady things."

"Is that where you come in?"

"Ya Crane, _that's where I come in._"

"Well what am I supposed to think?"

Lee swatted at a mosquito as Lyndon let out a sigh. It took a few moments but eventually he started to explain things.

"My father was an ambassador for the area; we'd come and live with him for half the year. Let's just say he's not going to win any parent of the year awards. Instead of staying with our tutor my brother and I would check out the cities. I was eight, he was fourteen and I worshipped the ground he walked on. Naturally if Landon went to a party so did I, he did drugs, so did I. We came over here to a land where they were easier to obtain and naturally . . ."

"You were doing drugs when you were _eight_?"

"Among other things. " Davenport ignored the look his commanding officer was giving him as he continued, "Loa had the drugs and my brother had a horrible ability to lose at poker; it was a match made in heaven. No one was going to touch Loa if he was around an ambassador's kids, for fear we'd be collateral damage and start an international incident; that meant Lao could get away with a lot of things. Once Landon was in debt beyond repayment, Loa had someone he could get to do favors; my brother still deals with Lao."

"What about you?"

"I was very good at poker and was constantly trying to clean up my brother's debt; at one point my rolodex read as a who's who of Asian war criminals. At fourteen my mother left my father and us; then my father ditched us back in the states and left us to our own devices. Long story short, I cleaned up, Landon didn't and he and I haven't spoken since; unless he needs money. But I don't count leaving me drunken messages on my answering machine as talking."

"And what was all that about teepees and totem poles?"

"My father's all-American but my mother's Cree. It's a constant sore spot for my father; what with having children that aren't one-hundred percent white, despite the fact that based on looks you can't really tell. Lao's quite taken with this idea of the 'Nobel Indian' and thinks it's Innate to be able to all the things he's read about."

Their conversation was interrupted as Lao sauntered over to the cage; a big fake smile plastered on his face. His lackeys stayed back by the hut he had just emerged from but all eyes were glued on the captives.

"I want to make things interesting. We will play game and if I win, you two have to suffer your brother's debt."

Lyndon rolled his eyes, "and if one of us wins?"

"I let you go."

"Let's be real Loa, you're going to let us go anyways; the only question is in what condition. If one of us wins, we get information."

"What are you doing?" hissed Lee who was standing beside Davenport in the cage.

"Give me a moment to confer with my colleague," said Lyndon as he grabbed Crane by the arm and turned him so they both faced away from Máfan. "It's a game. He gets nothing out of killing us and everything by having us in his debt. More importantly he will know what's been going on in the area, and any buzz about trying to off load the computer program on the black market. Now, how are you at cards?"

Before Crane had a chance to voice his input, Lyndon was once again engaging in negotiations with their captor. Lee didn't know what to make of his new first officer; his instincts were screaming set up and not to trust Davenport, but without any other options all he could do was let Lyndon lead and see where they ended up.

"Let's play cards," suggested the exec.

"No, you cheat at cards; we play Pai Gow with flare."

The prisoners were escorted into one of the huts and seated at a small table; Máfan and one of his men sat on one side and the _Seaview_ officers on the other. Loa explained the rules and his new twist to those present. He had marked a tile with a deep gash across it and designated it the death tile; if a player had the tile in their hand at the end of the game; then they would lose regardless of their hand.

Lao shuffled the tiles and asked Lyndon to shuffle them again to keep things fair, and then he had Lee and his man do the same; the tiles came back to Loa and he distributed them amongst the players. Lao's man revealed his hand; followed by Lee, who didn't it. All eyes turned to Lyndon who flipped his tiles over exposing the highest hand.

With a smug look he stared at Lao. "Well?"

The two opponents stared at each other for a while. Finally a smile curled Máfan's lips and he swiped his tiles off of the table; they clinked together as scattered across the floor.

"Well played my friend." Lao proceeded to give orders to his guards who were lurking just outside the hut door in his native tongue. "These men will take you to get something to eat and drink, then we'll have small talk."

As they followed the guards the Captain quietly asked, "what was all that about?"

"He's a sore loser and he knows I cheated."

Lee stared at Lyndon; the unasked question written all over his face.

"He cheated first. He purposely dealt me the death tile and I palmed it and switched it with the other tile I palmed when he had me shuffle."

"But if he knows you cheated, why aren't we feeling his wrath right now?"

The XO chuckled and waited until the guards left the hut they had entered. There were dishes of rice and vegetables sitting on a small table along with cups of water; Lyndon sat down and grabbed a pair of chopsticks.

"The only way he could call me on cheating would be to know that I had the death tile; the only way to know that it had been dealt out and that I specifically had it would be to admit he cheated first."

As they sat down and ate their meal Máfan entered the hut alone; he sat down at the table and propped his feet on top near Lyndon's bowl.

"What you want to know?" Lao asked.

Davenport nodded towards the Captain and Lao turned his gaze to him instead.

Crane passed over a piece of paper with the coordinates on it. "We're looking for a research lab near these coordinates."

Máfan looked at the paper and shook his head. "Not research lab, mansion."

"There's a mansion at those coordinates?" questioned Lyndon.

"Russian spy working for the People's Republic bought land here and built family home years ago; he and English wife live there with children. Children grown up now, older than me. Place pretty much abandoned except for staff that work there. Until few months ago anyway; lots activity but died down now."

"Do you know who owns the place now?" asked Crane. He could feel his excitement building at the possibility of finally getting some answers about his mystery nemesis.

"Two brothers, Kozlov is family name. Last I hear - one brother is in prison."

"Can you take us there?" Lee was sitting on the edge of his seat; he was so close now.

Lao pondered the question for a few minutes. He weighed his options and the consequences of sticking his nose in matters that did not concern him; however the Davenport brothers had always made his life interesting to say the least, and it never hurt to have someone in your debt.

"I can take you there."


	5. Chapter 5

The group moved through the jungle single file; Crane and Davenport were in the middle following Lao. It was a day's trek but eventually the dense foliage parted to reveal the stone mansion by the lake. It seemed out of place against the green backdrop, like a piece of history fell into the jungle.

The place stood silent against the active jungle full of life. The hope of finding Chip and those responsible was slowly fading away. There were no guards or any indication of security measures that would normally be associated with someone running illegal operations and kidnapping. Lao's scout returned and gave his report to his commander.

Lyndon translated for Lee, "He said the place is completely empty. Everyone`s gone and anything of value has been removed or destroyed."

Crane started walking towards the house with a determined look on his face. He couldn't have come all this way for nothing; for it all to be a ruse. Davenport followed behind him as he entered the home. The scout had been right, the place had been deserted; basic furniture was left, but the lab had been smashed and most of the devices removed. This had been the right spot, but when did they leave?

Crane continued to search the place; if Chip had really been here surely he would have left some clue for him to follow? There had to be some sign that Morton had once occupied this place. He wandered down a long corridor which led to another one full of small rooms; Lee tried the handles and found them to be unlocked. The sight in the third room had him stop dead in his tracks. Hanging above a cot in the corner of the tiny dark room was a note taped to a set of dog tags.

A part of Lee knew who's they belonged to, but he found himself drawn to them. His suspicion was confirmed as he turned the silver tags over in his hand and read Chip's name. He grabbed the note with the other hand; as he read it, he gripped the tags tighter and tighter.

_Captain Crane;_

_Ghosts tell no tales._

_You're running out of friends and time._

_Sincerely,_

_Your biggest fan_

The last thing Lee remembered was crumpling the note and stuffing it into his pocket; the next time he became aware of anything he was laying on his bunk in his cabin aboard _Seaview._ He knew he had walked back to FS1 under his own power with Davenport guiding him the whole way; but after reading the note he just shut down. Upon arriving back aboard the sub he knew Jamie had been concerned and so was the Admiral; but if you'd asked Lee anything specific about the last few days he couldn't tell you a single thing.

Crane opened his eyes and took in a deep breath; Nelson cleared his throat and Lee glanced towards his desk. The older man had stayed by the Captain's side for the majority of the two days since the away party had returned; he was leaning back in the desk chair filling out reports when Lee woke up.

"He's really dead isn't he?" asked Crane in a hushed whisper.

Nelson had wanted nothing more than to have his former exec return with the skipper. It took all of three seconds to figure out the mission hadn't been successful by the state Crane was in when he arrived. Jamie had been extremely concerned, and Nelson had had to explain the whole situation to the doctor. Jamie had taken the news hard himself. The Admiral wasn't sure what to say to make this situation any better. All of his scientific endeavours and inventions and not a single one could bring back their friend.

"I don't know Lee; my head says yes but I'd like to believe he's still alive. We pulled finger prints off the bottle of wine and glasses you brought back. ONI is going to let us know if they get a match."

"What bottle of wine and glasses?"

"It appears your XO is very good at thinking on his feet; he brought back two glasses and a very old and expensive bottle of wine that was covered with finger prints. I had Madden scan the prints and send them to ONI. Hopefully the prints, the name Kozlov and the connection to a Russian spy working for the People's Republic will turn up something. This man can't hide forever."

"That's what I'm afraid of; every time he shows up someone dies. It would be different if he came after me but taking out everyone around me makes it impossible to protect the people I care about. I can't even focus on my job anymore I'm so fixated on revenge and trying to save Chip that I . . ." Lee paused as he thought about his last statement; was there really a Chip to save?

Nelson stood up and patted Crane on the knee, "get some rest; we'll plan our next move when we make port." He left his friends cabin and returned to his own.

The Admiral reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips and flicked his lighter; no flame appeared. He tried again but the results were the same. He grabbed a hold of the lighter and threw it across his cabin with all his might; the pack of cigarettes followed. Nelson put his head in his hands; he wouldn't cry, he never allowed himself to cry. He had been stead fast in his belief that he shouldn't get his hopes up about Chip being alive, but in the last few days Lee's enthusiasm had been contagious and he'd dared to believe it was possible.

All the weeks of stress and holding it together came flooding out of him as he dragged his arm across his desk sending all the items upon it scattering across the floor of his cabin. The Admiral had been breathing down ONI's neck for weeks for something, _anything_ to help catch this person that had taken the lives of Morton and Archer and attacked Riley, Jamieson and Ryan. Most importantly he had to stop what this man was doing to his friend and the Captain of his sub.

Things were quiet around NIMR except when Nelson was walking about; office staff members had made the comparison to a hurricane. Since _Seaview_ had returned to port the temperament of the crew had changed; especially Nelson and Crane. Lee was very quiet and was either in his office or the Admiral's. Nelson vented his anger on anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path. Ryan felt bad for Jack Morton as she put him through to the Admiral; she had no idea how the phone call went but it did nothing for the Admiral's temperament.

Without using the intercom Nelson bellowed from in his office, "Ryan I want you to get Crane and bring him here."

Ryan wasted no time in carrying out his orders and rushed to Lee's office to retrieve the Captain; a few moments later she returned with a demoralized skipper in tow.

"I just got off the phone with Jack Morton; apparently someone's been calling the house and harassing them. They have been getting calls at all hour of the night for the last two weeks with someone taunting them about Chip. I also spoke to Tyler and Michelle O'Brien this morning, and she received written threats while we were gone. I've sent the letters out to be analyzed but I don't believe we'll find anything on the letters."

Nelson could see the new information weighing on the Captain and thought it was time to share some more positive news.

"Lola gave me the report from ONI. They pulled two sets of prints off of the glasses, after eliminating Davenport's of course."

Lee stared at the Admiral; not sure if he could handle another disappointment and dead end.

"One set had several matches to other cases but no identification has ever been made. The other glass had Chip's figure prints on it; so we can now conclude that Chip was there at one point and with that communication two weeks ago I'm willing to speculate that he is indeed alive and being held by our mystery friend."

"He could have just as easily killed him at any point since the bombing of Base 21."

"I've been thinking about that Lee; if he did kill Chip there would be a body. It seems our enemy's biggest goal is to make you suffer; if he did kill Chip he would produce a body. No, he has some plan for Mr. Morton and we have to figure out what that is before he executes it."

"What about the bottle?"

"The prints are hard to read. They are working on a program to try and reconstruct them, but right now there isn't enough detail present to get any kind of match. They assured me they should have something in the next few weeks. Now the name Kozlov is a common Russian name and can be connected to several agents, but they only found one that supposedly had two sons. The good news is he defected to our side; the bad news is he's eight-six and not in the best mental state."

"But we know where he is and can talk to him?" A tiny seed of hope was starting to take root again. If this man was connected to this faceless enemy, then for once they would have the advantage and someone their foe cared about within their reach.

"At the moment he's ill and highly medicated. Lola has talked to his physician and he's agreed to decrease his meds and allow you to talk to him at the end of the week. I've cleared you to take FS1 and head to New York on Friday. Lola will meet you at the harbour and take you to the retirement home."


	6. Chapter 6

"Explain it to me one more time," demanded the calm yet irritated Alexi.

"Well, you see _your_ venture is under staffed and I required assistance lifting the outer sensor casing off of the ground; since you have the halfwit chained up all the time, I had to ask leather fetish there to help me," snapped Oliver Shaw.

Alexi took a swallow of his cognac and placed it on the bar; he turned to face the doctor who was standing to his right with his hand resting on the pink ivory wood counter. Itami stood three feet away from the pair in her usual ridged stance with her eyes transfixed on the wall behind the bar.

Chip Morton had managed to get a message to Captain Crane using Alexi's computer lab. Itami had been stationed in the room to help Shaw watch his captive as Chip helped complete the computer program stolen from base 21. Despite this close monitoring, Morton had still managed to communicate with the outside world, throwing a curve ball into Alexi's plans. It wasn't an unforeseeable complication but it would have been nice if something about his operation took the path of least resistance. Being surrounded by constant incompetence was wearing the older man down and he longed for the days when things were simple; when you simply nabbed the person you wanted and slowly tortured them to death. All of this plotting, scheming and grandiose posturing was for the young; those that still had something to prove to the world, not accomplished criminals and spies. And was it just him or did the hired help seem to have lower IQs than before?

"The halfwit is chained up for a reason you moron. He's not exactly here of his own free will; that makes him dangerous. I shouldn't have to tell you this, Shaw. That fact aside, your snivelling, whining and general incompetence is grating on my last nerve and I'm not going to stand for it."

No sooner had Alexi finished his sentence than a blur of black leather flashed before Shaw's eyes, followed by extreme pain in his hand. In one fluid motion Itami had pulled out a small blade, disguised as a hair clip, and plunged it into the doctor's hand that was resting on the bar.

The doctor screamed in pain and clutched his wrist, unable to remove his hand from the expensive wood surface. Alexi casually reached over and extracted the blade; Shaw fell to the floor in a weeping bloody mess.

"Relax Shaw; it's just a hole in your hand; you're lucky I let you keep your hand. Pain is good for the soul and it's _even_ better at reminding people not to fail me," Alexi informed the man on the floor. Shaw was in too much pain to show any sign of acknowledgement. He grasped the nasty hole in his left hand and rocked back and forth in a futile effort to relieve his agony.

"Now I suggest you get back to work before I let her stick her nasty little knife somewhere else."

Not wanting to experience any more of his employer's legendary wrath, Shaw managed to find his legs and vacate the room. Alexi watched the spineless coward flee the room, then with equally fast cat-like reflexes, grabbed a hold of Itami's head and slammed it on to the polished bar surface. The half-full crystal glass smashed under the force of the act and the sound flooded the room.

Anyone listening to the scene play out would never have guessed the violence took place by the calm and unflappable tone demonstrated in Alexi's voice. The only thing that signified his anger was the violent act itself. He held her like that for a few minutes applying an excruciating amount of pressure to her head.

"Do you know how much the wood for this bar cost and you're putting gouges in it? Fuck up again, and I'm going to give new meaning to bone china."

He released Itami and she quickly resumed her stance, not even bothering to wipe away the blood that was winding its way down the side of her face. "Clean this mess up," ordered Alexi as he made his way to the entrance of the large room. He paused for a moment at the door, before turning back to his assassin. "Itami, you're like family to me; it would be a shame if I had to kill you for incompetence."

Alexi left the room and the girl standing there. He had the third part of this problem to deal with.

The first thing Chip noticed upon waking was the same confused fuzzy feeling he had woken up to a few weeks ago; the second was he was no longer in his usual prison cell. The exec took a few moments to organize his thoughts. He remembered sending a message to Lee and then blackness. Alexi came to talk with him after that. Chip knew he had succeeded in contacting his friend by the irritated expression in Alexi's dark eyes, not to mention the beating he took from Itami following the lecture about misguided attempts to complicate the situation. After that things really started to get fuzzy.

Chip knew Alexi's excuse for a medical doctor came in to treat some of Itami's more enthusiastic reminders of obedience, and then being injected with yet another drug; but how long ago was that and where was he now?

He wasn't in his cell; in fact he was lying on top of a large comfortable bed. The room was bright with a large glass door at one end that was open a crack to let a gentle breeze move through the room.

Cautiously the blond threw his legs over the side of the bed and slowly sat up; several of his ribs protesting vehemently against the movement. Supporting his aching side with one arm, the exec managed to reach a vertical position.

The room had a wooden table and two chairs in one corner and a small bathroom in the other. Beside the glass door which lead to a small balcony there were two other windows that revealed a bright cloudless sky and the crystal clear waters of the ocean.

Chip painstakingly made his way across the room and slid open the balcony door; he squinted as he moved into the sunlight. The crashing of the waves against the cliff in which he over looked assaulted his ears. If escape was even possible from this place it certainly wasn't going to be this way. The sheer cliff extended down about a hundred feet to the rock littered ocean below.

"Spectacular view isn't it?" asked Alexi as he walked into the room.

Morton turned to face his captor and answered his rhetorical question with a determined glare.

"Come now Charles, all unpleasantness is behind us. You learned your lesson the hard way . . . _again_. I'd like you to join me for dinner Charles."

"And if I refuse?"

"You mistake my hospitality as a request."

So far security measures appeared to be more lacking then at the previous compound. Alexi was a rather over confident individual, and maybe if he played along he could take advantage of this seemingly new freedom. Deciding to pick his battles, Chip relented and followed Alexi out of the room. As he had guessed, there were no guards to escort them to where ever he was being led.

The hall was decorated with various priceless works of art; the sheer number of pieces was impressive. Seeing his captive's interest in the attire, Alexi felt the need to enlighten his guest on some of his prized possessions.

"They're all real," assured Alexi.

Morton scoffed as they stopped in front of a copy of the Mona Lisa.

"Well, they're almost all originals; there are a few pieces that have eluded this collection. These are the originals and most of what hangs in museums are, in fact, excellent forgeries."

"I'm sure the museums of the world would realize they were in possession of fakes," stated Chip.

"I'm sure they would, Charles. These paintings were stolen right from under their noses; so the original passes the admittance inspection then the work is stolen and a forgery left in its place. By the time anyone realizes the painting is a fake it's too late; no one wants to admit that the world has been viewing a copy for years, so it's never made public that the real ones have slipped through the cracks."

"And the Mona Lisa?"

"Can't win them all Charles; but rest assured I win more than my fair share."

"I knew someone once who thought they could own that painting too. He failed just like I know you will," retorted Morton.

"Where _he _failed, I will succeed," the pair stopped at the entrance way to the dining room and Alexi gestured for Chip to enter, "please make yourself at home. I have another matter to attend to, but Itami here will keep you company until I return." Before Morton had a chance to reply, Itami was escorting him to his seat at the table.


	7. Chapter 7

Tyler O'Brien whistled as walked through the hall. It was after hours at NIMR and the place was empty; all the doors to the offices were closed and the lights were off except the hall lights. The young Lieutenant had just finished up his last report before a much needed day off. With all that had happened recently the newlywed had spent little time at home; of course his wife was also busy at work.

All the departments and secretaries were pulling double duty filling in the administrative duties that were normally occupied by the command staff of _Seaview. _Nelson and Crane were too busy trying to solve the case of the mysterious bomber; and the exec's paper work needed to be looked after since a replacement was difficult to find. In recent weeks they had found one candidate that the Admiral thought would work out, but training in the administrative duties was put on the back burner.

To make up for his absence Tyler had purchased a large bouquet of flowers on his lunch break. His plan was to surprise Michelle with flowers and a reservation at the very exclusive Italian restaurant she liked; he figured it was a good start at trying to spend some quality time together. O'Brien rounded the corner and noticed the light shining under the door of Nelson's outer office; the Admiral had already gone home for the day so it was odd that someone would still be there. The young man approached the door and was just about to enter when he heard a raised voice; it was one side of a conversation and whatever they were discussing was becoming very heated. As O'Brien listened to the sound on the other side of the door he realized he knew that voice.

"You know what; I saved your ass when Morton sent that message to Nelson at the hotel. That wasn't part of the plan but I still managed to delete it before he saw it," explained the angry voice from through the door.

O'Brien's mind started to race with what was being said.

"Maybe you should watch him more closely. It's your fault he sent that email to Crane, not mine! Just put a bullet in his head and then we won't have any more problems."

The Lieutenant's hand that was resting on the doorknob was starting to tremble; he was paralyzed by what was being discussed. Chip Morton was alive and being held prisoner somewhere. More importantly this was the person on the inside that that helped make the bombing of base 21, the attempt at murdering Nelson, the death of Archer and the attacks on fellow crewman possible. How could someone they all trusted and loved be in on this plot?

"No! I told you Malcolm is on to something. Your boy Shaw screwed up again; I told you anyone willing to sell out that quickly would be useless. You should have kept Highner alive; at least he would have been useful."

O'Brien was at war with himself. His duty dictated he get all the information he could, but another part wanted to burst in the room and beg, no demand that this trusted person tell him it wasn't true; that they couldn't do this to their family at the Institute.

"I've been spending all my time framing everyone around here while you've been holding a tea party. It's time to step things up; I'm taking this to the next level. I told you I took care of it, I . . ."

The voice paused a moment as a beep sounded from out in the hall.

O'Brien held his breath as he realized the beep came from his pocket; _of all the times to get a text message._ A shaking hand reached into his pocket to try and shut off the offending device before it brought anymore attention to his eavesdropping. O'Brien pressed his ear against the door once more.

"Right. I'll contact you again at the regular scheduled time."

O'Brien turned the knob to enter the office and confront the traitor when something slammed into the back of his head. His vision blurred around the edges and the floor rushed up to greet him. The last thing he saw was his assailant removing a radio head set from their ear and throw it to the floor.

"I took care of it like I'm going to take care of _this," _stated the voice as O'Brien slipped into darkness, "men; always causing problems."

The traitor dragged the body into the office and closed the door. Hopefully no one else would be disturbing the office tonight.

The constant pounding on the door woke the Captain; still half asleep he rolled over and looked at the glowing red light of his alarm clock. _Who could be at the door at three am?_ Letting out a yawn Crane reached over to the table to grab his cell phone. There were no missed calls or messages, so the late night intrusion wasn't work related.

Lee climbed out of bed and shrugged on his housecoat. His footsteps down the stairs to the front door matched the rhythm of the knocking; he grabbed his handgun from the desk drawer. He was pretty sure that anyone wanting to cause him harm wasn't going to announce their presence by knocking, but this recent adversary seemed willing to try anything and stoop to any level. Putting the piece in his pocket Crane turned on the porch light and opened the door.

"Yes," uttered the Captain as he set his sights on the disheveled and hysterical woman in front of him, "Michelle? What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Lee," the tears started flowing and the rest of the sentence was lost in a jumble of sobs.

Putting his arm around her shoulder Crane guided the distraught secretary inside and sat her down on the couch. He reached for the box of Kleenex on the coffee table and handed it to his unexpected house guest, before sitting on the table across from Michelle.

Having the wife of his Lieutenant show up in the middle of the night was not a common occurrence. To be honest it had never happened before, and a knot of dread was beginning to form in Lee's stomach.

Mrs. O'Brien gratefully took the box of tissues and pulled one out to wipe her eyes. After a few moments she managed to compose herself a little.

"Start again Michelle," encouraged the skipper.

Taking a deep breath, Michelle started her story again.

"Tyler never came home. I know he has been working a lot lately, we all have but he always calls and lets me know where he is. I've been trying to reach him all night and there's no answer; not to my calls or texts. Then the restaurant called and said they were going to give our table away, he wouldn't have made a reservation if he wasn't going to come home early tonight. I've looked everywhere Lee and I can't find him. His vehicle is still at the Institute and security said he never signed out. I didn't know where else to go."

"You did the right thing coming here. I'm sure everything is alright and O'Brien got caught up with something and is currently at home wondering where you are. Just to be on the safe side I'll go and check the office myself. I'll call someone to take you back home and I'll get in touch with you there," reassured the Captain.

"You really think everything is alright?" asked Michelle with a sparkle of hope in her eye.

Not sure his voice would support the comforting lie he was trying to offer the young lady, Crane simply gave a small smile and nod then headed for the phone. After informing the Admiral of the current situation they both agreed to head to the Institute right away. His second call was to the closest crewman to escort Michelle home and stay with her in case someone tried to get to her as well.

Returning to the living room, Lee informed this guest of the plan, "the Admiral and I are going to search the Institute and Patterson is going to take you home and stay with you until we find something."

A gentle knock at the door signified Pat's arrival; Lee answered the door and let Patterson in. Despite the late hour, Pat had managed to make himself look somewhat presentable. He was dressed in a green sweatshirt and black jeans.

Before entering the living room Crane pulled Pat back.

"I want you to stay with Michelle and keep an eye on things. I have a feeling our _friend_ is back and behind O'Brien's disappearance. Try to reassure Michelle that things will be alright. I don't want her worrying needlessly if it turns out that everything is fine," explained Crane.

"Do you think everything will be alright skipper?" asked Patterson hopefully.

"I don't know Pat, I just don't know."

The pair walked into the living room and Michelle looked up.

"Your chariot a waits," said Pat as he gestured to the door.

Michelle got up off the couch and started towards the door. "Thanks Sean," Michelle said as she patted Patterson's arm, "and thank you Lee."

Patterson and Michelle got into Pat's car and drove to her house. Crane followed them out of the house and got into his vehicle.

The Captain pulled into his usual parking spot and noticed that O'Brien's midnight blue Yukon was still parked there. Lee inspected the area for any signs of foul play but the parking lot seemed clean. Upon entering the main lobby Crane found Nelson waiting for him.

"Lee, I have security searching the grounds now."

The pair took the elevator up to Nelson's office in silence. Both ran scenario after scenario in their head about what had become of their Lieutenant; none of them ending well. Upon entering the office the first thing they noticed was the lights had been left on.

"Was Ryan working late tonight?" asked Crane.

"I don't believe so."

The next thing to catch their attention was a soft melody playing somewhere in the room.

"Do you hear that Lee?"

The two men wandered around the outer office trying to pin point the source of the music. As Crane stepped closer to Ryan's desk the intermittent sound grew louder. He cautiously pulled open the bottom drawer to reveal a ringing cell phone. Lee hit the answer button and placed the phone to his ear.

"Lieutenant O'Brien?" asked the familiar voice on the other end.

"No this is Crane."

"Sir, what are you doing with Mr. O'Brien's phone?"

"This is O'Brien's cell?"

"Yes. The security chief asked me to try calling his cell number in the hopes the Lieutenant might answer."

"Well I guess we can cancel that approach." Lee ended the call and turned to the Admiral who had been listening to the conversation. "What would O'Brien's phone be doing in Ryan's desk? You don't think she had something to do with this?"

"Now Lee, let's not jump to conclusions."

"Let's not jump to conclusions! Let's jump to _something_ Admiral. He's gone after another crewman and we know there's someone on the inside."

Nelson raised his voice to match the same boisterous level. "And leaving it there for us to find is rather sloppy; not to mention that as my _personal _assistant Ms. Miller is subject to numerous and regular background checks. Bloody hell Lee I even have background checks on her friends and family. Now if it is Ryan, then this plan has been in motion for more than five years which would be longer than you've been at the institute."

"People can be bought."

"I'm sure they can and I'm sure this is exactly what these people want, is for us to start pointing fingers at one another. Now for your information I have been conducting investigations into our people and have eliminated key personal as suspects."

"When were you going to let me in on your investigation?" snapped Lee.

"When I was sure you could handle it. You don't exactly have things together right now Lee; you're little stunt on the last mission proves that."

"So you have Davenport running to you about me trying to leave him behind," huffed Crane under his breath.

"Actually Lee, I was referring to you leaving Sharkey _and_ Patterson with FS1, but it's nice to know your self-destructive short sightedness knows no bounds. This would be why I have to keep you in the dark; you're not handling things very well. Now _get it together_ Captain!"

The two friends glared at each other from across the desk. Neither knew when the infighting had really started but it seemed they were doing a lot of it lately. They both knew the other one was hurting but pride prevented either one from apologising for recent behaviours.

The glaring ceased and an unspoken truce was reached. No more keeping secrets, no more reckless behaviour. The only way to take down the enemy would be together. Apart is what had caused the problem in the first place and continued to give their foe the advantage. Together they would be unstoppable.


	8. Chapter 8

The dining hall was not as impressive as the one at the previous location. The room was large with log walls; the ceiling came to a peak well above the marble topped table. If it wasn't for the size of the room it would have given off a quaint cozy cabin feel. There was a fire place to the side of the room with a rather impressive stuffed grizzly bear head mounted just above the mantle. On the opposite wall was a mounted elephant head with beautiful long ivory tusks jutting out over the table.

Chip was seated at the head of the table with his recently acquired shadow standing guard just behind him. There were no chairs or place settings to his right and the place setting to his left was vacant. On the left side beside the vacant chair sat Oliver Shaw who was glaring daggers in Morton's general direction. The XO had noticed Shaw's injured hand and was at a loss as to whether the man's hostility was directed at him or Itami.

The seat at the opposite end of the table was also vacant but based on the on the fact that a very expensive bottle of cognac was placed at that end Morton surmised that Alexi would be joining them shortly.

The shuffling of footsteps announced the presence of the rest of the dining party, however Alexi was not alone. Goon 1 and Goon 2 were trailing behind him dragging someone with them; Alexi sat down in his chair and watched with a self satisfied smirk as his newest captive was forced into the last vacant chair.

Chip watched the proceedings with great interest. He recognized the uniform right away. Alexi had managed to capture another member of the _Seaview_ crew. The officer was forced down and his bindings were released. The captive began to rub his sore wrists and shook his head when the hood concealing his identity was removed.

"O'Brien!" exclaimed a shocked Morton.

O'Brien's eyes widened as he focused on the blond.

"Mr. Morton, you're alive? But how . . . ?"

"I love family reunions don't you?" came the snide interruption from the opposite end of the table.

Ignoring Alexi, Morton asked, "are you ok?"

O'Brien nodded still trying to absorb the situation. The exec had died despite the best efforts of the crew and Captain Crane. The bomb on Base 21 had exploded and claimed the life of their valued and trusted XO; but here he was sitting at the table of a mad man assuredly as O'Brien was.

"What's your game this time Alexi?" demanded the irritated but powerless exec.

"I thought having a friend might make your stay more enjoyable Charles. You've seemed lonely this last month; and besides, I always like to make new friends. Now I know you met Itami when you arrived, Tyler and I'm sure you remember the disgruntled Dr. Shaw."

Alexi enjoyed the silence that gripped dinner. Each person at the table was engrossed in their own thoughts. Morton was hoping to get a report about what had been happening with his friends and a possible forth coming rescue. O'Brien was contemplating how Alexi managed to corrupt one of their own. Shaw was seething with anger at his treatment; a great mind like his should be worshipped not subjugated to the games of a mad man. Itami ran through the many possible ways to inflict some overdue pain upon the prisoners.

After dinner Itami escorted their 'guests' to their accommodations for the night. Once they were in Chip's room she locked the door and proceeded to do her sweep of the grounds.

Another cot had been added to the spacious room. There was a very obvious lack of security measures present. Morton was unsure if he should feel confident about that or not; either Alexi was getting over confident or the traps were so well hidden that they would never see them coming.

"Somehow this isn't what I pictured when I thought about being captured by the enemy," commented O'Brien as he took in their surroundings.

"I wouldn't buy into Alexi's hospitality, he has a way of making things very uncomfortable very fast," replied the exec who suppressed a slight shudder as he thought about his ordeal with Itami over the last month. "I need you to fill me in on what has been happening since Base 21 blew up."

O'Brien recounted events as he knew them. He informed the XO about how hard the Captain had taken his death, the attacks on Riley, Archer, Ryan and Jamie, the threats to Michelle, the mission to find the lab that created the replaced sensor and the new executive officer. The report ended with his eavesdropping on the informant and ending up here.

"I can't believe she would betray us like that. How are you holding up?" asked Chip. He was concerned how the young Lieutenant would handle the betrayal.

"I can't believe; of all the people . . ." O'Brien sighed deeply and then added, "I'll deal with it after we get out of here sir. Do you have a plan?"

"Yes. But it's not a very good one. We'll never make it down the cliff out that window so we have to go out the front door; from there try to steal a vehicle and find a town or someplace to contact the Institute or someone on our side."

"You're right sir that sounds like a very open plan" stated O'Brien as he lay down on the cot. He folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. "do you have any idea how we get to the front door?"

"No, but I do know that Alexi's dog isn't guarding the door and from what I've seen of the place there are very few guards around." Morton laid down on the bed and kicked his shoes off. "and I did manage to lift one of the steak knives from dinner tonight."

The exec's smile was wide as he slipped the knife out from his shirt sleeve and waved it in the air for O'Brien to see. The odds were slowly moving in their favor.

"Get some sleep. I plan on breaking out before dawn. We can use the cover of darkness on our side," ordered the blond as he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. In a few hours he was going to wipe the smug smile off of Alexi's face.


	9. Chapter 9

The manor was wrapped in silence and darkness when Chip awoke. Silently he moved over to the cot O'Brien was sleeping on and gently shook his shoulder. When the sleeping man began to stir Morton placed his hand over his mouth to prevent the junior officer from making any unwanted noises. The exec was reasonably sure there was no guard posted outside their quarters, but he didn't want to take the chance of drawing any undesirable attention.

Stealthily both men made their way to the door; Chip slowly turned the door knob and pushed the door open a crack. The outside hall was pitch black and there were no guards in sight. Morton led the cautious journey to the staircase at the end of the hall. The pair made it down the stairs and past the dining room they had been in earlier, without running into any of Alexi's men. The success of the escape attempt was starting to cause doubt in Chip; it shouldn't be this easy.

The two eventually found the garage and knocked out the one guard patrolling the premises. Chip dragged the unconscious man towards a storage locker and placed him inside. Every one of his injuries from the last few weeks began to protest. The occasional wince was not lost on O'Brien as he watched his commanding officer closely.

"Are you ok sir?"

"I'll be fine once we get out of here."

The room exploded in bright light as the sounds of guards and dogs came closer. The steady blare of an alarm told O'Brien and Morton that their absence had been discovered.

"Sounds like we should get to the getting out of here part," said Chip as he climbed into the jeep and pried off the console covering under the steering wheel. Using the steak knife he stripped the wires and started the vehicle.

"Where did you learn that?" asked Tyler as he climbed into the passenger seat.

"Something our dear Captain taught me once."

Morton shifted the jeep into reverse and tore out of the garage. Hip shifted into drive and the vehicle speed down the dirt driveway under a hail of bullets. They passed through the gate and continued down a dirt trail leading away from the manor.

Alexi's men were busy trying to organize themselves into search patrols for the escaping _Seaview_ officer as the fugitives were gaining further distance from their former prison.

"They don't appear to be following us," shouted O'Brien over the roar of the engine.

The road was really a set of grooves worn into the tropical ground. It was twisty, windy and very uneven. Every bump reminded the exec about the possible broken ribs that Alexi's doctor had haphazardly wrapped a few weeks ago. The possibility of bringing the last two months to an end drove Chip to carry on.

Day was starting to break as the tropical forest began to thin out. The lush green of trees was becoming intermittent with white sand and blue ocean. The jeep stopped on the beach and Chip and O'Brien got out and looked at their surroundings. There was nothing around except ocean and shoreline that stretched for a few miles than began to curve back towards the manor.

"Well I guess we know why they didn't bother to follow us," stated Chip, "we're on an island."

The adrenaline from the escape was leaving him and as he watched their chance of escape slip away he began to feel tired. All that time he had held on to the possibility of rescue; that his captor might make a mistake that Chip could exploit; neither had happened. His friends thought he was dead; sure Alexi had told him as much but it wasn't real until O'Brien had confirmed it. For the first time since the whole thing began, Chip felt very alone.

"Are you done with the dramatics Charles? Or are you going to swim the couple hundred miles to the mainland; 'cause if you are, I'm going to pull up a lawn chair and crack open a beer and Tyler and I can sit back and watch the show."

Morton closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to face his captor. O'Brien glared daggers at the man who stood there smugly with his goons backing him up.

"Come now Charles, cheer up; you're sitting in the lap of luxury. What more could you ask for?" Alexi causally sauntered over to the pair until he was face to face with Morton.

"For starters you could drop dead," snapped the exec.

The hit wasn't unforeseen. Morton picked himself up so he was kneeling in the sand. He placed his hand to the side of his face where he felt a trick of blood crawl down his cheek.

O'Brien's desire to aid the exec, or get into a fist fight with Alexi himself, was put on hold as Goon Two took a step closer to the young Lieutenant and gestured with his gun for the young man to stay where he was.

Alexi pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off of the small knife he held; satisfied he pocketed both the knife and the handkerchief. Finally he knelt on one knee in front of Chip.

"You should be more appreciative of my hospitality Charles. Most people would have killed you long go and fed you to the fish."

"That just proves you need me for something; and if you need me you're not going to kill me."

"Don't over estimate yourself worth," he leaned a little closer and dropped his voice so only the blond could hear his next words, "besides if I need _you_ then I don't need your friend over there."

Morton glanced to his left and looked at O'Brien. He might not be able to help his other friends but he could look after the Lieutenant. As much as he wanted to pound on Alexi, there was no way to do that and stop the guards from shooting O'Brien.

Years of experience allowed the older man to guess what was running through the exec's head. The different options he had to be considering, protect his subordinate, stick it to the bad guy and forfeit his life, go along with everything and give up and die or wait for another chance to escape.

"Now you gentlemen can either march over to the truck or I can save us all a lot of time, energy and trouble and just shoot you both right here," Alexi called over his shoulder as he walked back to his vehicle.

O'Brien stood there and waited for Chip's lead. The exec took a moment to run through their options one more time.

"Today gentlemen; don't make me late for breakfast."


	10. Chapter 10

Nelson and Crane sat in the Admiral's office going over the security report regarding O'Brien's disappearance. Despite the high tech security system in place none of the cameras caught a glimpse of the missing crewman after he left his office. They suspected he had come to the Admiral's office because there was a spot on the carpet that had been cleaned with bleach and that would have removed any blood stains, had the officer been attacked. If this had been the spot O'Brien was taken, then it would make sense to ditch the cell phone here and try to frame Ryan.

Crane wasn't entirely convinced the personal assistant was innocent despite Nelson's assurance to the contrary; he felt kind of guilty for assuming the worst about one of his friends but someone had betrayed them.

A soft knock at the door grabbed their attention. Nelson looked up and waved Michelle into the office.

"Sorry to interrupt sir, but I was hoping I could speak to you alone for a moment?" asked Michelle.

"I'll go and get some coffee," offered Lee as he gave his chair to Michelle.

Lee headed down to the cafeteria where he saw Davenport and Jamieson sitting together at a corner table. It was after hours and the Institute was empty except for a few employees. Crane thought it was odd that the two were having coffee together, but decided to join them anyway; not so much for Lyndon's company but for Will's.

"Evening Captain; what brings you down here?" asked the doctor as Lee sat down next to him.

"The Admiral and I are going over the security report regarding O'Brien's disappearance. Michelle came up and wanted to speak with the Admiral privately so I decided to come grab a cup of coffee."

"It's a shame about O'Brien; are there any leads yet?" asked Will.

Lee sighed, "Nothing so far to tell us where he is, if he's still alive or who did this."

"Made any head way on your list of suspects yet? The Admiral did say there was someone on the inside in his last meeting," said Jamie as he took a sip of his coffee.

Davenport snorted before Crane had a chance to answer. "I'd imagine I'm at the top of your list."

"What makes you say that Commander?" snapped Crane.

"Our love for one another is legendary."

Not hiding his sarcastic tone Lee shot back, "I'm sure nothing would give you more pleasure than for me to admit that, but unfortunately as much as I would love all the fingers to point to _you, _you're not on the top of my list."

Sensing the growing tension between his commanding officers Jamieson tried to direct the conversation away from one another.

Not sure he wanted to hear the answer; Will asked anyways, "who did you suspect."

Not looking the doctor in the eye Crane answered, "Things tend to point to Ryan; it has to be someone that knows very personal details about us, has access to sensitive information, access to the Admiral's files and can move around without raising suspicion."

"True," concurred Jamieson, "but you're forgetting one very important detail. It was Tuesday when O'Brien went missing and a Tuesday when Riley was stabbed, Archer was killed and Ryan and I were attacked."

"What's your point Jamie?"

"Every Tuesday from five o'clock on Ryan is with me; we go for dinner and then to the movies. I assure you, O'Brien was still in his office when I left with Ryan."

"If you want my opinion," Lyndon turned to look directly at Crane, "and I know _you_ don't, I would focus on someone who appears to be innocent. If someone has gone to all this trouble, they're going to take the time to frame some people to hide the true identity of the traitor. If I was going to bet . . ."

"This isn't a game!" snapped Lee.

Ignoring the interruption Lyndon continued, "if I was going to bet I'd say Michelle O'Brien in the science lab with a frying pan."

"What?"

"Think about it. Planting someone in your inner circle takes time and who's to say you'd ever really trust them; now I'm sure you tell O'Brien all sorts of things which like any husband, he tells his wife. You never directly say anything to her, but she knows more about you than you're probably comfortable with. That's how marriage works. As one of the science administrators she has access to any research occurring and knows when top secret things happen. Even though she's not allowed to see the top secret files, she indirectly does anyways. I mean you can only play dumb for so long about having to process bills for things that when put together build a nuclear device of whatever else you have going on."

"What do you mean?"

"She's always carrying around files, and one day she dropped one. I don't think you write reports in mandarin, which is what she had; 'just taking it to the Admiral'. And written threats, seems kinda out of place considering what everyone else got; and why take O'Brien?"

The wheels in Lee's head started to turn; he'd never thought about that option before. His conversation with Ryan a few weeks ago echoed in his head.

"_How drunk are you?"_

"_On a scale of one to ten, one being manageable and ten being if my boss walks in here I'm probably fired - - about . . . thirteen."_

_"You're upset; it's understandable." _

"_At least I know what room I'm in. Poor Michelle O'Brien, when I went to get the personnel files, she was so upset she didn't realize she was in the personnel files room."_

_The Admiral!_ Lee jumped out of his seat and ran back up to Nelson's office.

"Did he just take me seriously?" asked Lyndon.

Jamie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side.

"Cause I was just shooting my mouth off again."

"Maybe you should follow him and make sure he doesn't embarrass himself," suggested Will.

Davenport shook his head as he slowly stood up and headed towards the stairs. Jamie chuckled to himself. Nelson couldn't have had two more different people that were somehow very similar, command _Seaview_. If only those two could see their similarities instead of their differences; but then again the doctor might have a better shot of convincing oil and water to focus on their similarities.

* * *

"So what is it you'd like to discuss Michelle," asked Nelson as he placed the report in a file and bent over to file it in his bottom desk drawer; when he sat back up he was looking down the barrel of a sleek handgun. It took several moments for the situation to actually register.

"Michelle, is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Gone was the sweet little secretary, sitting across from the Admiral was an individual with weapons experience. Her voice projected her anger but maintained a smooth flow.

"I tried to be patient, but Alexi is too obsessed with making Crane suffer to get the job done; well I'm not interested in Crane and I'm tired of waiting."

Nelson slowly raised his hands and placed them on top of his desk. He mentally calculated his odds and options; his best chance was if Lee came back from grabbing a coffee, providing him with a distraction to grab the gun. The only thing to do now was stall and remain calm.

"You don't want to do this."

"Yes I do. I've been waiting to do this ever since I accepted the position here. Eighteen months I had to walk around here with a smile on my face, stuck in some fake relationship with one of your men all for this moment; for what you did to my father!"

"Your father?"

"Alexi thinks it was all Crane's doing, but I know the truth. It's all _your_ fault, you did it and now I'm going to make you pay!"

"You'll have to refresh my memory dear, who is your father?"

"Michelle!" called Crane as he stood at the door.

"If it isn't our hero come to save the day; you're too late Captain."

Lee flinched when he heard the gunshot. There was a tremendous bang and then the room became deathly silent; an eternity could have passed during the suffocating silence. His pulse raced and a crushing weight grabbed his chest and stole his breath. He stood there powerless as he watched Nelson slump from the chair and topple to the floor.

Michelle turned triumphantly to face the tormented Crane who started to take a step towards his fallen friend; she waved the gun at him and he halted his movement.

Lee saw the gun point in his direction and paused. His first instinct was charge the gun wielding lunatic but the sight of the growing red puddle beneath the Admiral made him reconsider. Not sure if his friend was alive or dead he stared at the lifeless body looking for any kind of sign of life. With all of his being he willed Nelson to give him some sign that he was alive, that there still was a chance of saving his mentor. The slight rise and fall of Nelson's chest caught Lee's eye and a momentary wave of relief washed over him; it was all up to him now. Crane had to wait for the perfect opportunity to take Michelle by surprise. If he didn't gain control of this situation Nelson was surely going to die.

"Alexi seems to have a hard time killing you; well, it doesn't seem that difficult to me," she declared turning the gun towards the Captain.

Michelle's delicate finger slowly tightened on the trigger as Crane's muscles prepared to lunge forward. A second shot rang out and Lee dropped to the floor; out of his peripheral vision he saw Michelle collapse to the floor clutching her shoulder, a stain of red spreading across her shirt.

Lee immediately crawled over to the still body by the desk and turned the Admiral over onto his back. His uniform was stained bright red and Crane placed two fingers on the side of Nelson's neck; a faint pulse was beating underneath the blood covered skin.

The Captain turned towards the door and watched Lyndon enter the office keeping his gun trained on Michelle, who was trying to creep towards her fallen weapon. The exec moved over and grabbed the discarded weapon before she could pick it back up again.

"Give me your tie!" demanded Davenport.

It took Crane a moment to realize he was talking to him and then another moment to process the command. Not stopping to question the demand, Lee removed his tie and handed it to the XO. Lyndon quickly used it to restrain Michelle; once he was sure the traitor wasn't going to get loose, he moved over to Lee and Nelson.

Lee was desperately trying to stop the blood from leaking out of the wound.

"Keep pressure on that; I'm going to go get help," said Davenport as he reached over and grabbed the phone. After calling Med-bay and informing them of the emergency, he then rushed out of the office in search of Jamie, whom he'd left in the cafeteria only minutes ago.

Jamie was the first to arrive on the desperate scene, followed by two corpsmen that brought a gurney and other essential supplies. Following an initial assessment, Jamieson and his corpsmen rushed the Admiral to Med-bay and began prepping him for surgery.

Security came to the office and escorted Michelle down to have her shoulder looked at so she could be transported by local authorities to jail. Crane was torn between staying with Nelson and following his shooter to jail so he could have an opportunity to interrogate her himself. His loyalty to his friend won out in the end and he made his way down to the Institute's medical facilities.

Crane sat on the hard bench in the waiting room; a million plans were swirling in his head. Something in him snapped. This Alexi wanted him consumed in a world of self pity, fear and depression; well no longer. He was done playing by the rules; no more waiting for ONI to get the facts and give permission to act, no more taking the virtuous route. If Alexi wanted to play dirty then so would Crane.

Will entered the waiting room dressed in his scrubs; the look on his face was not promising.

"We're taking the Admiral into surgery now. It doesn't look good Lee, but I'm going to do everything I can. It might be a good idea to get a hold of Edith and bring her here; just in case."

Lee just nodded his understanding; he didn't trust his voice to work at that moment. He watched as Jamie walked back through the doors; the Admiral had to be alright, Alexi couldn't win. Lee began the waiting game. The second Nelson was in recovery he was going to go to New York and pay a visit to Kozlov, without any witnesses. Starting now he was taking the fight to Alexi.

The End.

(Story 3 of 5)

* * *

Thank-you for reading this story.

Thank-you very much to everyone who reviewed this story (especially Donna and Nans who reviewed every chapter) it's very appreciated.

Thank-you to Tracy137 for the amazing beta job!


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